


Costume Malfunction

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Butt Plugs, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: Aziraphale orders a bunny tail and ears to wear for the trick-or-treaters on Halloween, but is heartbroken to discover the set he bought won’t latch on to his clothes, and Crowley has to find a tactful way to explain why …





	Costume Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the inbox prompt - Hello! May I request something fun for Ineffable Husbands for Halloween? Maybe something a little spicy? TIA

“Hey there, angel.” Crowley slides up beside Aziraphale and kisses him on the cheek as he sneakily swipes a chocolate biscuit from the plate on the table. Aziraphale doesn’t greet him back, doesn’t object to his thievery (which he never does anyhow). He simply stares, despondently, into a special delivery box open in front of him. Crowley nudges his shoulder, hoping for a smile, but Aziraphale doesn’t seem in the mood to give him one. “What’s wrong?

“Oh … nothing.” Aziraphale sighs. “I’m just a little disappointed.”

“Why? Is Lady Shadwell talking about cocoa beans going extinct again?” Crowley shoots a look behind Aziraphale’s back at Tracy, seated at the table even though Aziraphale has chosen to stand, and drinking her tea.

“Well, they are,” she defends between sips.

“No, they aren’t. That’s what I _want_ you mortals to think,” Crowley says, taking a bite of his cookie. “You humans wipe out the good stuff too quick. You all need to slow down! I need to make sure there’s always gonna be enough chocolate for my angel.”

Aziraphale smiles gratefully, but it falls right away. “It’s not that,” he replies, accompanied by another longer, more dramatic sigh.

“What is it then?” Crowley’s gaze follows Aziraphale’s into the box, certain the source of his woes are tucked underneath the layers of paper tissue and bubble wrap stuffed inside it.

“I ordered a bunny tail and ears from a costume shop online to wear for Halloween, but I can’t figure out how to put it on.”

“It can’t be _that_ complicated.”

“But it is! It’s positively Sisyphian.”

“Let’s see. Maybe I can help you,” Crowley offers, making a grabby hand gesture.

“Oh, I hope you can.” Aziraphale reaches sadly into the box and pulls out a fluffy white tail topped with a pink satin bow. “I was _so_ looking forward to dressing up for the trick-or-treaters.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow at that. He can’t ever remember Aziraphale saying he liked trick-or-treaters in his shop … or children … or people in general. But seeing as so much has changed for the two of them in the months following the Nada-geddon, maybe Aziraphale’s opinion on customers has, too.

Crowley would be surprised seeing as Aziraphale growled at a young man yesterday who wouldn’t stop asking questions while the angel was trying to read, but anything’s possible.

“Don’t you worry,” Crowley says with a fond sort of condescension in his tone. “I’ll have you up and bunnied in no ti---“ He stops, going slack-jawed when he turns the tail over and sees what has Aziraphale flummoxed. Instead of a clip or a pin, the snowy white tail, with its coquettish pink bow flowing over the top, is attached to a large, rather intimidating-looking, silver butt plug. “Uh …” He stammers, his brain stuck on an image of him using that glorious plush-adorned plug on his angel …

And of his angel using that plug on him.

His brain re-wires and he swallows hard, but neither does anything to bring his voice back.

“Is there something the matter, my dear?” Aziraphale asks.

“N-no!” Crowley stammers. “Nothing! Not at all! It’s just that … you wouldn’t normally wear this particular bunny tail _outside_.”

“That’s okay,” Aziraphale says, relieved. “I don’t intend on leaving the shop.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh. Then what _do_ you mean?”

Crowley stares at the plug in his hands, trying to come up with an appropriate answer considering present company. Not that Tracy Shadwell would be shocked by Crowley explaining the mechanics of a butt plug. Far from it. But if Aziraphale doesn’t know, Crowley doesn’t want to fluster him.

“How about this - I’ll find a costume shop in London and pick you up a proper bunny tail. Then later on tonight …” He creeps in close, standing behind his angel with his arms wrapped around his middle, the plug cradled in his cupped hand “… I’ll show you what this one’s all about. You know, when we’re _alone_.” He glances at Tracy, whose eyes dart to her cup, her tea suddenly captivating.

“If you think that’s best, my dear,” Aziraphale says, wiggling back into his demon’s embrace.

“I do,” Crowley whispers, squirreling the plug inside his jacket and kissing Aziraphale on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t take too long.” Aziraphale accepts another kiss from his departing demon, this one on the lips. Crowley gives a nod to Mrs. Shadwell. The former medium nods back from behind her tea cup, which has yet to venture too far from her mouth lest she open it and say something she shouldn’t. She waits until Crowley is through the door and out of earshot before she speaks at all.

“You cheeky little …” She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure _you’re_ not the demon?”

“Why?” Aziraphale carefully replaces the remains of the packing material in the box and shuts it up tight. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You didn’t order that tail by mistake! You bought that plug _on purpose_! You even asked me which website to order it from!”

“So …?”

“So you _lied_! You’re an angel and you lied!”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. “That barely constituted a lie. And if I _did_ lie, it was to a demon, so by Heaven’s standards, that counts as a loophole.”

“That’s kind of harsh, in’it? He is your husband, after all.”

“Exactly,” Aziraphale says with a smug grin. “That’s why, personally, I see what I did as _roleplay, _so technically not a lie.”

“_Roleplay_?”

“Absolutely.” Aziraphale sits down to his guest and his cup of tea. “Besides, it’s so much more fun when he thinks he’s teaching me something new. And believe you me, after 6000 years, there’s not much left on this planet I can pretend not to know.”

“I can imagine,” Tracy mutters, sliding her cup closer to Aziraphale when he picks up the teapot to refill his own. “So, does everyone in Heaven deal in technicalities and loopholes?”

“Of course, my dear. Why do you think it’s on the top floor of a high rise office building?”


End file.
